


Forging Reality

by winterstorrm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterstorrm/pseuds/winterstorrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite Theo’s comments, Draco knows that he doesn’t fancy Potter – not the slightest bit. However, once he sees how right they can be with his own eyes, he’ll do anything to make that his reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forging Reality

"What is it with you and Potter?" Theo asked when he caught Draco staring at Potter over breakfast one morning. "The war is over; Potter and his side won. Can’t you just let it go and give the guy a break?"   
  
Draco grunted and picked up a piece of toast, nibbling the corner. Fucking Potter. So he had killed the Dark Lord, and yes, he’d saved Draco from certain death, but so what? He’d probably only done it because of his stupid hero complex and his absolute need for attention. Draco had saved his life first anyway, and Potter had owed him. He hated Potter –  _hated_  him – Mr. ‘Look at me! I’m going be a hot-shot Auror!’ Draco wanted to break his ugly nose again.   
  
"If I didn’t know better I’d say you fancy him," Theo said, schooling his face into a picture of innocence. "The sexual tension between the two of you has always been off the chart. Why don’t you just shag him and get it over with?"  
  
Draco choked on his pumpkin juice, glaring over at Potter rather than back at Theo. " _What?_ " Shag Potter? As if he would ever stoop that low! Sexual tension his arse.  
  
Just at that moment Potter looked up, green meeting grey and clouding with hurt confusion. Draco watched him frown slightly and sigh, looking back down at his pumpkin juice before turning to say something to Granger.   
  
Draco had been dismissed.  
  
He didn’t even remember getting up, only crossing the room and shoving Potter’s shoulder. "Ow! Malfoy, what is  _wrong_  with you?" spluttered Potter as he regained his balance.   
  
" _You!_  You’re what’s wrong with me! Thinking you’re better than me because you saved my life. Well, if you’re waiting for me to –"   
  
There was a flash of blinding light as Draco was blasted with distantly muttered spell. His eyes rolled back in his head and there was an insistent tug on his navel. Everything went black.  
  


**: : : :**

  
Draco woke up with a start, ready to turn on whoever had thrown that spell at him, before realising he wasn’t in the Great Hall anymore.  
  
What the fuck? Where the hell was he? This wasn’t even his dorm, this wasn’t even his bed – the covers were  _red_  – had someone taken him somewhere to recover? He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and sat up groggily. The room was eerily silent, and upon closer inspection he realised that the room only held the one bed, and it was certainly larger than the standard issue dorm bed he was used to. What was going on? Whose room was this?  
  
Potter. Everything always came back to that insufferable, arrogant, git. Always. Draco briefly wondered why he’d insisted on coming back to Hogwarts for this final year instead of getting a tutor at home as his parents had wanted. He shuddered. Where was home now, anyway? After Voldemort’s occupation and all that went on at the Manor, Draco never wanted to go back there again.  
  
He stumbled off the bed and approached the window, pulling back the half-closed curtain with a sigh. Not in the eighth-year dorms then, he realised belatedly. The room was about five storeys high, overlooking the lake. Draco frowned and surveyed the room. How had he got here, and why? He must have been transported here by that spell. Inconvenient, but not insurmountable; all he had to do was –  _wait_ , was that a picture of him?  
  
Draco moved closer and peered at the photograph on the nightstand, an empty snow-covered woodland scene; from the left of the picture came a figure, in a woollen pea coat and scarf, it was him. He was laughing, running from someone off-camera who was throwing snowballs at him, before scooping up snow, running towards the camera and throwing it, beaming like a lunatic at the lens.   
  
What. The. Fuck?  
  
That had never happened. It was him, there was no one else it could be, but that scene had _never happened_. What was going on? For the first time since awakening he felt a nervous fear slide through him.   
  
He eyed the door warily, edging towards it with apprehension, not knowing what he might find on the other side. Draco gripped the handle and tugged slowly, allowing the door to open enough for him to peer through.   
  
It was a large sitting room cum study. There was a comfortable looking green sofa, two squishy arm chairs, a large desk, several full-to-brimming bookcases and – Draco startled, hearing approaching voices. He watched in horror as the outer door opened and Harry Potter stormed in, throwing a cloak and pair of gloves onto the back of the sofa before starting to unwind the scarf from around his neck.  
  
"I don’t know how you can be so obtuse, Harry," came a worryingly familiar voice attached to the second figure entering the room. "She was flirting with you and you liked it. Didn’t you?"   
  
Draco stifled a gasp as he saw himself following Harry into the room, also unwinding his scarf – a  _Gryffindor_  scarf – and throwing it over the sofa with his cloak to join Potter’s discarded clothing. It was clearly himself, but at the same time  _not_. His hair was longer and fell loose over his eyes and onto the nape of his neck; he was wearing Muggle jeans and he was looking at Potter like he was on the menu of an expensive restaurant.  
  
Potter looked the same as ever: his hair wild and unruly atop his head, his eyes the brightest green Draco had ever seen and –  _no scar_. Draco blinked and rubbed his eyes. No, he’d been right the first time. Harry Potter’s famous scar was conspicuous in its absence from his forehead.   
  
"No, Dray, I like it when you get all jealous like this," Potter purred, fucking  _purred_ , at Other Draco. What the hell? Potter stepped into the other’s private space, leant near his ear and whispered something that Draco strained to hear but couldn’t catch. A sneer spread across Other Draco’s face.  
  
"You’ll pay for that, Potter," he snarled, wrapping his hand in Potter’s hair and dragging him forward into a kiss.   
  
Draco, from his vantage point in the bedroom, felt himself sway as the shock of seeing himself kissing Harry Potter jarred through him. This was a dream, a very surreal and totally fucked up dream, there could be no other explanation.   
  
It felt and sounded all too real to be a dream, though.  
  
Other Draco, lips still attached to Potter’s amidst heavy breathing and soft moans, was unbuttoning Potter’s shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. Potter released his arms from their grip on Other Draco’s arse and shrugged the shirt to the floor, immediately returning the favour, leaving the two boys topless and pressed together desperately.  
  
"Think you can flirt with whoever you like and I won’t care?" Other Draco hissed into Harry’s neck as he dug his teeth into the tanned flesh above his collarbone. "You’re mine, Potter. _Mine_." Pale hands were making light work of Potter’s trousers, pushing them down over his arse, taking his boxers with them. Potter kicked them and his shoes to one side, his long, thick cock jutting out almost flat against his toned stomach. Other Draco closed a possessive hand around his prize, looking into Potter’s eyes with a flash of triumph.  
  
Draco was transfixed by the whole scene, by  _Potter_ , who was – dare Draco even admit this to himself? – breathtakingly hot. OK, so Draco went both ways, and had been with a couple of boys before now, but none of them could even hold a wand to Potter in this moment. His head was thrown back, the muscles in his stomach rippling beneath Other Draco’s questing hands, his eyes closed as he bit his lip to hold in his desire.   
  
Other Draco fell to his knees and licked a long stripe along the underside of that magnificent cock and,  _Merlin_ , Draco could no longer deny how hard he’d got from watching the scene unfolding before him.  
  
He couldn’t look away. He was intruding on something that should be private, yet this was him; he was watching himself so this wasn’t wrong, was it? It was as though Draco was in a Pensieve memory, only this had never happened.   
  
He slid a lone hand under his robes and beneath the waistband of his trousers and wrapped his hand around his straining prick, muttering a quick charm under his breath. This was a dream, he wasn’t really here, this was just an exceptionally unexpected, hot, wet dream. He would wake up any moment now covered in his own sweat and come. He was sure of it.  
  
Potter was groaning loudly now as Other Draco paid homage to his cock, threading his hands into the blond hair. Other Draco released Potter’s cock with a faint moan, standing up to kiss him again, one hand gripping a hipbone, the other stroking along the curve of his bottom, one finger sliding between the inviting cheeks and causing Potter to pull out of the kiss to whisper, "Dray."  
  
"You’re only thinking of me now aren’t you, Harry?" Other Draco said. "Who do you belong to?"  
  
"I’m yours," Potter said in a low voice.   
  
"Don’t ever forget it," Other Draco said and twisted Potter around, pulling his naked torso back against his own partially-clad body, nibbling Potter’s ear and saying, "Now, prove it."  
  
Other Draco stepped back, walking the short distance to the nearest armchair and sitting down. His legs spread wide, arms flat along the armrests. Potter followed, kneeling between Other Draco’s legs, running his hands up the length of his cloth-covered thighs and lowering the zip.   
  
Draco watched the dream him drop his head back on the headrest and close his eyes as Potter’s hand moved inside his trousers and released his cock. It was the same long, smooth length that he was currently stroking in his own hand. Draco expected Potter to take it in his mouth, return the favour bestowed upon him by his doppelganger, but he was mistaken. Potter pulled on the waistband of Other Draco’s trousers, easing them down slightly, before standing and climbing onto his lap, one leg on either side of his thighs.   
  
Grey eyes opened and pale hands slid around to cup Potter’s arse cheeks. There was a muttered spell, a carbon copy of the one Draco had used on himself a few minutes earlier, and the fingers disappeared into Potter’s newly lubricated hole. Potter raised himself to stand on his knees, the tip of his cock level with eager lips that took advantage; a hungry tongue flicked out to taste Potter’s pre-come.  
  
Draco had to use his spare hand to steady himself as his knees almost buckled beneath him, biting his lip hard enough to taste his own blood as he realised that this was only the appetiser. It was obvious what was about to happen. Draco wanted that to be him out there with a naked and very aroused Harry Potter on his lap, preparing him to shag him. Actually  _him_ , not some dream version of him where the real Draco could only look but not touch. He wanted to go in there and hex the imposter into next week and claim Potter himself, bend him over the back of that chair and fuck him until his eyes crossed. He wanted –  
  
"Oh Merlin, Dray. Now –  _please_ , now!" Potter begged and Other Draco ceased his teasing of Potter’s cock and smiled evilly, a smile Draco knew well.   
  
"You’re going to have to do better than that," he demanded. "Ask me nicely."  
  
Draco paused, his own hand on his cock in anticipation of Potter  _asking_  a Malfoy to fuck him.  
  
"Please, Draco, fuck me.  _Please_ ," Potter said huskily.   
  
Other Draco tipped his head to one side and pretended to consider the request. Draco could almost laugh, because that really was something he would do. "I don’t know, Harry, you don’t look like you want it badly enough."  
  
"You arse," Potter broke out. Other Draco laughed, reached down to grip his own cock and lined it up with Potter’s hole. Potter eagerly sank down on it with a throaty moan. "Oh yes, that’s it. Right there."  
  
Draco’s hand began moving again of its own volition. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on, not even during actual non-dream sex with Marcus Belby in fifth year. Belby had been good, but this – this was something else.  
  
Potter began to move, riding Other Draco’s cock with vigour. The pale fingers gripped tightly on his hipbones and the blond head fell back again, and Draco could see Other Draco’s lips moving, chanting, ‘Harry. Harry. Harry!’ as Potter ruthlessly impaled himself repeatedly onto his erection.   
  
Draco began fisting his own cock with a pace to match the scene set out before him. The combination of the groans Potter was emitting and the visual feast was too much and he was already close. He was transfixed by the sight of Potter’s erect cock bobbing, untouched, against his stomach.  
  
"Dray! Argh – ah – Dray!" Potter exclaimed as Other Draco finally wrapped a hand around his erection. "Mnnnngh!"  
  
Draco hadn’t known he could wank at such a pace. He felt his climax building, creeping its way from his toes, spreading out, taking him over. He tasted blood again as he bit down on his lip to stop from crying out, unable to stop when Potter gave a guttural moan and came hard, spurting over Other Draco’s pale flesh, leaning in and kissing him as he rode out his orgasm.   
  
"Potter!" Draco cried, just as Other Draco stilled.  
  
"Oh yes, Harry!" Other Draco almost shouted. "Harry!" Potter silenced his lover with another kiss, before burying his face in his neck.  
  
"I love you, Dray," Potter whispered, his breathing still heavy.  
  
Other Draco shifted slightly, wrapping his arms around Potter. "You better."  
  
Was it wrong that this was the part Draco felt he was intruding on? He’d just had the best wank of his life watching them shag, yet it was the emotion behind it that had him reeling. These two weren’t fuck-buddies as Draco had somehow assumed. They were in love.  
  
He felt cold. That should be him in there, snuggling into Potter, not the imposter him. Wait – what? No, no, no – this wasn’t real. The wanking – just a reaction to the sex, like a live porno. Nothing more. He whispered the spell to clean away the evidence of his folly. Maybe he would wake up now. In the morning he wouldn’t even remember this dream.   
  
"As if," he told himself, even as the evidence to the contrary dried on his hand and Theo’s words from earlier came drifting back to him, ‘Why don’t you just shag him?’   
  
Draco sighed. "I mean, me and  _Potter_?"  
  
"What was that?" Potter said urgently, pulling out of Other Draco’s arms and turning his head towards the door. The other him was looking too, and Draco was frozen by the green and grey gazes that pinned him to the spot.  
  
Other Draco gasped. "Is that you with the fucking Polyjuice again, Zabini?" Harry gingerly climbed off his lap and dragged on his trousers, shooting Draco a poisonous glare. "I told you last time Harry won’t fall for that. Even if you got as far as kissing him, you won’t taste the same, he’d know!"  
  
"Have you just been watching us, Zabini?" Potter accused, moving closer to the door where Draco was still stuck to the spot, uncharacteristically lost for words. "Did you get off on –"  
  
Draco opened his mouth, finding his voice, finally ready to interrupt, when he felt the familiar tug in his middle as he was pulled into the ether. This time, he didn’t find himself nicely cushioned on a bed, sleeping; he was dumped unceremoniously on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall, where the whole ordeal had begun.   
  
Weasley, Longbottom, Granger and various other assorted Gryffindors all stared down at him. Potter was sprawled on the floor beside him. "You twat, Malfoy!" he spat as Weasley helped him to his feet. "Why can’t you just grow up and let it go?"  
  
"The ferret won’t ever change," Weasley scorned. "Come on, Harry. He’s not worth it."  
  
Draco reluctantly accepted Longbottom’s proffered hand and was hauled ungraciously to his feet in time to see the retreating backside of Harry Potter disappearing through the main hall doors. He swallowed thickly and turned to Longbottom. "How long was I gone for?"  
  


**: : : :**

  
Draco picked at his dinner, glaring sullenly over at the Gryffindor table where Potter sat, happy as you like, laughing with Granger and Longbottom. Potter was all he could think about; he was a man obsessed. Potter kissing the other him, Potter sucking his cock, riding him, coming all over him. Potter naked. Potter, Potter, Potter. He was driving himself insane.   
  
Longbottom had said he’d barely been gone a minute; the spell had hit him, knocked him on his back and Draco had disappeared, seeming to Disapparate. The onlookers had just been getting their bearings back when he’d reappeared.   
  
Less than sixty seconds to squeeze in the orgasm of his life and change his view of Potter forever. Well, this Draco wasn’t going anywhere near the boy wonder with the saviour complex. Whatever that had been,  _wherever_  that had been, it hadn’t been real.   
  
Real or not, he felt as though the chains that had always bound him to Potter as his enemy had fallen away, and all he could see was Potter’s beauty (and yes, his long, pink cock and his Quidditch toned thighs). Hell, twenty-four hours ago he would never have used the words ‘beauty’ and ‘Potter’ in the same sentence. He was doomed. With a groan, Draco lowered his head, barely resisting the urge to bang it against the ancient wood.  
  
When he lifted his head, Potter was staring at him thoughtfully, his head tilted. Draco stared back, unable to look away. He was doomed. He would never be able to un-see what he had witnessed.  
  
He broke their gaze and went to the library to wait for his study session with Granger, thankful of the pre-arranged timing of it. If anyone might know what had happened to him, she would. The girl was a total know-it-all. She was also Draco’s partner in N.E.W.T. Potions and the two of them had formed a truce of sorts. They were pleasant and civil to one another for the duration of the lesson, and met once or twice a week in the library to complete their assignments. On the odd occasion they even had conversations centring around subjects other than Potions. Draco could reluctantly admit – but only ever to himself – that she wasn’t as annoying as he’d previously assumed.   
  
That wasn’t to say that all of his opinions about Gryffindors and the other two members of the Golden Trio were based on incorrect assumptions. He didn’t assume Weasley was a moron and Potter was an attention whore – he  _knew_ they were.  
  
Obviously Draco didn’t tell Granger exactly what he’d seen, only that where he’d been there was another version of himself and that things had seemed… different.   
  
"You went to an alternate universe, of course.  _I_  cast that spell, I sent you there, to a world where Voldemort never existed. What did you see?  _Who_  did you see?" Her voice rose excitedly. "I know the timing was kind of wrong, but I had been planning on –"  
  
"You did what? Why?" It simply hadn’t occurred to Draco that she would have been the culprit; he’d sort of assumed it was a miscast spell, probably from Weasley trying to turn him into a kneazle.  
  
Granger shrugged. "I found it in a book when I was researching during the war and I tweaked it to purpose. I – you’re always on Harry’s back – I just reacted without really thinking. I wanted you to see what life might have been like without Voldemort. I’ve been there myself; I knew what you might find." She smiled, raising an eyebrow. "What did you see?"  
  
"You sent me to another dimension!" He wasn’t about to let this go. "What if I’d been trapped there? Did you think of that?"  
  
"You wouldn’t have been. The spell only lasts thirty to forty-five minutes in the other dimension. It’s a very advanced spell." She preened. "One minute there equals about one second here.  _What did you see?_ "  
  
Draco sighed, resigned. "Well, aside from me, Potter –"  
  
"Did he have his scar?" she interrupted eagerly.   
  
"No, but – oh, universe without Vo – the Dark Lord, right." That would explain why he and Potter might have got together, not being on the opposite side of a war and all that, but it obviously hadn’t changed the fact that they enjoyed getting a rise out of each other, just that the end result was hot make-up sex instead of fists.  
  
Draco could see the merits in that.  
  
"You were together, weren’t you? It’s OK, I’ve seen them – the other Harry and Draco – when I cast this on myself. They’re sickeningly in love."  
  
An alternative universe where Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were not only lovers, but  _in love_? How could that be? Even in a world that had never seen Voldemort, Harry Potter would still be an attention whore, and Draco would still hate his guts, right? Angry sex was good.   
  
 _But you tried to be his friend in first year_. Draco shoved the errant thought to the back of his head.   
  
"I suppose you and Weasley were all loved up too?" Draco found he was curious about what she had seen, as long as there was no mention of naked Weasleys. He shuddered dramatically.  
  
Granger blushed. "No, as a matter of fact, I don’t know where Ron was in that reality. I was engaged to be married to Theodore Nott." She laughed sadly. "It was nice."  
  
Granger and  _Theo_? He bit back a laugh. Theo had been fighting a crush on Granger since fourth year.  
  
He stood up. "Well, don’t think I’ll forgive you for this in a hurry, Granger." He surprised himself with how little he actually meant that.  
  
He left Granger in the library and went to find Theo. He needed a drink; he had to wipe that image of Potter riding him – no, the  _other_  him – out of his head before he went crazy.  
  


**: : : :**

  
"Potter, could I have a word?" Classes were over for the day, and Draco had to do this now or he might lose his nerve. For days this had been all he could think about until he’d almost forgotten what his objections were against Potter in the first place. His hand closed over Potter’s wrist as he spoke and he had to struggle with the urge to run his thumb over the pulse point there. His fingers tingled at the contact – his first  _real_  contact with Harry Potter, his first deliberate touch that did not hold ill intent or result in an injury.  
  
Potter froze, his green eyes meeting Draco’s in barely concealed shock. He looked down at their almost joined hands with a frown, and then glanced back up at Draco before yanking his hand free and pointedly rubbing his wrist as though Draco  _had_  hurt him.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Weasley, appearing at his best friend’s shoulder and glaring at Draco as though he was something unpleasant he’d just trodden in.  
  
"I’m trying to talk to  _Potter_ ," Draco said through gritted teeth. He struggled to bite back an insult. If he was going to do this, if he was going to make Potter his, then it was going to mean trying to be civil to Potter’s friends. He already had a tenuous working relationship with Granger, but Weasley was a loose cannon.  
  
"Well whatever you’ve got to say to him you can say in front of me? Right, Harry?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and shot Draco a triumphant look. Draco smirked, thinking of Granger cheating on him with Theo. Now, there was a thought that could keep him warm at night.  
  
Potter remained silent, his intense green gaze fixed on Draco, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he studied him. Draco shifted uncomfortably, a burgeoning tightness in his trousers causing his eyes to widen and a light blush to creep up his neck. "No, I want to talk to Po – Harry alone," he managed.   
  
Potter found his voice. "Ron, it’s OK. I’ll see you back at the dorm, yeah?"  
  
"I’m not leaving you on your own with  _him_." Weasley narrowed his glare but didn’t falter. "Who knows what he might do to you if you’re alone."  
  
 _Who knows what he might do to you if you’re alone_. Not Weasley’s intended meaning, but the image that conjured: lust-filled eyes and deep heavy breaths. The tightness in Draco’s trousers intensified.  
  
"Oh, forget it," snapped Draco, whirling around and stomping off, feeling the burn of Potter’s eyes on his retreating form. Merlin, he hoped he wasn’t walking like a man with an erection. That hadn’t gone well. It was nigh impossible to get to Potter without Weasley interfering. He’d have to try another tactic next time.  
  
He wanted Potter, and by Salazar, he was going to get him.  
  


**: : : :**

  
Draco lay back on his bed and wrapped his hand firmly around his aching erection. He had resisted the call to seek Potter out after his last attempt for almost a whole week, wanting to get some sort of plan in place before trying again. During that time he attempted to avoid Potter, which of course meant that Potter was  _everywhere_... like he was deliberately trying to taunt Draco. Draco was half-hard nearly all the time. He had all of his classes with Potter except Potions, where Potter took Divination instead.   
  
So Draco watched him, which wasn’t exactly a new activity – Draco Malfoy watching Harry Potter – but the way in which he watched him had certainly changed.  
  
Potter’s lips when he talked, sometimes a pink tongue sneaking out and licking his full lips, the way he ran his hands through his already messy hair when he was stressed or nervous, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed. Draco saw it all now. He wanted Potter to smile for him. Instead, when Potter caught him looking, he would stare back, challenging Draco to break the gaze first. The third time that had happened this week Potter had broken the stare with a wink and then turned away, pointedly ignoring him for the duration of the meal.  
  
Draco hated being ignored, all the more so when it was Potter doing the ignoring.  
  
Over the years he’d thought he’d known Potter very well indeed. All he had really known was how to get to him, make him hurt. Draco was amazed to find he felt ashamed that he didn’t know how to make Potter smile. All the shit that had happened between them: the insults and the jibes, the broken nose, the scars on Draco’s chest were all because their worlds had revolved around the Dark Lord and each other. Always each other.   
  
How could it take something so otherworldly to make him see what was right in front of him all this time? Potter had been made for him.  
  
How had he missed that Harry Potter had become so gorgeous? Somewhere, sometime, when Draco hadn’t been paying attention, the Boy Who Lived had become the man-Draco-wanted-to-fuck. Last year, when Draco had been trapped in hell and Potter had been – what  _had_  Potter been doing last year exactly, besides saving the world? – Potter had filled out, grown taller, and lost the scrawniness that had almost defined him. The Harry Potter in his 'dream' had the body of a man.   
  
So, yes, Draco wanted Potter for real, found that he wanted him almost as desperately as he had hated him and he was determined to make that happen.   
  
Draco needed a plan. His first attempt at getting Potter alone had been a disaster: too much of a knee jerk reaction, and too unplanned. He had never had to woo someone before; people had always come to him. He didn’t know what to do or where to start. Nobody had written a book on how to seduce someone you had spent the last seven years fighting with.  
  


**: : : :**

  
_Potter, Potter, Potter… Harry_. The mantra in his head wouldn’t die. He felt as though he might explode from sheer unrequited desire. It had been too long since his first bungled attempt to get Potter alone, and now he wondered what the hell he would have said to him if he had succeeded. Would he have told Potter that he’d seen a world where they were lovers instead of enemies? Would he have pressed Potter against the wall and kissed his lips, his eyelids, his neck? What would Potter have done if he’d followed through with that desire?   
  
He’d have likely hexed Draco’s balls off.  
  
Draco’s chest hurt. It wasn’t love, it couldn’t be, he didn’t  _know_  Potter, couldn’t be in love with him. It almost felt like he was grieving for what could be, for what he had never had.   
  
He had no idea how to go about making things right with Potter. He couldn’t expect to apologise for the last several years of animosity and then ask in the next breath if Potter would like to get naked with him.  
  
An apology might be a good start. Maybe they could become friends… and then more.  
  
Draco flopped back on his bed and slid a hand under his waistband.  _Potter_. He stroked himself to a swift orgasm, knowing that doing this before seeking out Potter would reduce the chances of shaming himself again. He waited for his breathing to return to normal before casting a quick _Scourgify_ , washing his hands and heading out in search of the object of his obsession.  
  


**: : : :**

  
This time, Draco was almost grateful for Weasley’s omnipresence. Recent wanking notwithstanding, Potter’s closeness still sent the blood rushing to Draco’s cock. Thank Merlin, for cavernous robes.  
  
"You’re apologising?" Potter looked bemused. Draco had expected incredulous.   
  
"You’ve got some nerve," Weasley scoffed, his freckled face infusing with red. "After the stunt you pulled last week –"  
  
"I’ve had time to think since then," Draco stated, his palms itching around his wand with the temptation to hex Weasley. "I’ve been angry for a long time, and I was taking it out on you, Harry. You don’t deserve it. I should be thanking you, really – for saving my life, for saving all of us."  
  
Potter went bright red, looking extremely uncomfortable for a moment; he might, given that this was possibly the only pleasant words directed to him from Draco’s lips since the rejected hand of friendship in first year.  
  
"Yes, well, you… saved me first – and your mother, if it weren’t for her neither of us would be standing here now, so…" He put a hand on Draco’s arm, sending heat through Draco in a shockwave that almost had him staggering.  
  
"So you accept my apology?" Draco pushed, trying not to let his desperation show.   
  
Harry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, "You’re not playing me, are you? Because if you are –"  
  
"Merlin, no! Can’t you just take it for what it is?"  
  
"Um, OK then. Malfoy, yes, apology accepted." He ran a hand through his unruly hair and Draco had to close his eyes, willing himself not to lose it in front of Potter.  
  
Draco felt relief flood through him. Step one complete. He held out his hand. "Let’s shake on that," he offered, biting back a groan as Potter’s hand engulfed his. Potter wrapped his left hand over the top of their joined hands and Draco could swear that Potter’s thumb traced briefly over his wrist before he pulled away. His cock twitched in anticipation of further contact and he felt himself lean forward, almost imperceptibly, his eyes gravitating to Potter’s lips.   
  
"How touching," Weasley sniped, reminding Draco of step two. He withdrew his hand from Potter’s with reluctance and held it out to the redhead.  
  
"The apology extends to you too, Weasley," he said tightly.  _Be nice to Potter’s friends if you want to get close to Potter_.   
  
Weasley stared at Draco’s hand in disgust, and put his hands in his pockets with a smirk. "Harry, let’s go and see if Hermione wants to study for that Charms exam together."  
  
"Ron, Malfoy’s just being polite, you could just shake his hand," Harry said with a raised eyebrow, but he was talking to Weasley’s retreating backside. "Sorry, Malfoy. See you later." Potter shrugged and followed Ron down the corridor.  
  
Stage two – fail.  
  


**: : : :**

  
OK, so he’d apologised to Potter, he’d tried his best with Weasley, and Granger owed him a favour after sending him to a bloody alternate universe in the first place, so he didn’t really need to do much there, for now. What next? He and Potter had nodded greetings at each other thus far, and Potter had smiled blandly at him this morning when Draco had caught his eye at breakfast. At this rate, Draco would be thirty-five before he got to first base with the man.  
  
He used his time with Granger to ask her for advice. He wasn’t blind; he’d seen the looks she’d been sending in Theo’s direction when she thought Weasley wasn’t looking. She was as affected by her foray into the alternate universe as he had been. He wondered if she had seen the two of them in a similar situation as he had of himself and Harry.  
  
"I want what I saw when I was in the other place to be a reality," he said, chopping ginger root and not quite wanting to look at her to see her reaction. "I want Harry."  
  
"You always have," she said, causing Draco’s head to shoot up. "All that pigtail pulling is a dead giveaway."  
  
"But… you haven’t told him, have you?" Draco hadn’t considered this. "About the place, what you saw?"  
  
"No. I thought about it, but –-"  
  
"What?"  
  
"He might want to go there himself and there’s the Theo thing and, well, that’s complicated." She didn’t look at him as she stirred the cauldron. "The only reason I decided to send you was because – well, I’ve seen you with Harry and I was sick of all the fighting. You were going to be Theo’s best man."  
  
"You like him. Theo, I mean."  
  
"I liked what I saw. I feel… no, it doesn’t matter. I think you understand." She sighed. "You and Harry, then?"  
  
Draco felt his cheeks flush. "I don’t want to feel like this. I was perfectly happy hating Potter, thank you very much, but what I saw… changed that." He shook his head, unable to believe he was telling Granger of all people.   
  
"Harry respects honesty above all else. He needs to be able to trust the people in his life. I say just be upfront, tell him how you feel. I think you might be surprised."  
  


**: : : :**

  
Draco waited, watched Potter leave the Great Hall and made sure that Weasley was still stuffing his freckled face before following him out. "Potter! Wait up!"  
  
Potter, halfway along the corridor, stopped and turned, his face expressing polite curiosity. "What can I do for you, Malfoy?" he asked as Draco approached.  
  
Draco was riveted by Potter’s lips as spoke. "Can we go somewhere private to talk?"  
  
For a moment he thought that Potter might demand to know why, but instead he nodded and the two of them walked in almost amicable silence for a few minutes until Potter asked, "Where are we going?"  
  
The Room of Requirement was too tacky, the Astronomy Tower too much of a reminder of what had happened with Dumbledore. "The dorm." Draco knew Theo would be in the library until late. The eighth-years all shared separate quarters and a common room in the east of the castle; Draco only had the one roommate. "Theo’s out."  
  
"Oh, OK." Potter didn’t look alarmed at the suggestion. As they neared their destination, Draco’s heart sped up. He was going to be totally upfront and honest. He was going to tell Potter he was interested in him. Potter had accepted his apology, but Draco didn’t have the patience to wait for a friendship to build before he made his next move…. After what he’d seen that day, well, he had needs and he suspected only Harry could fill them.  
  
When they reached his dorm Draco sat on his bed and invited Potter to sit beside him. He was surprised when Potter complied, leaving barely a foot of space between them, his heat radiating uncomfortably in Draco’s direction.   
  
"What did you want to talk about? Is it Ron, because I don’t think he’s going to come round any –" He was cut off by Draco’s lips landing on his.   
  
The sight of Potter sitting on his bed had made his hormones go haywire, flashes of Other Draco with Potter in his lap; he wanted that, wanted Potter, and now that Potter was here, he couldn’t help himself. Merlin, Potter’s lips were soft under his, the stubble on his chin a delightful treat to his senses.   
  
Potter’s hands flew to his chest and Draco carded his fingers through Potter’s wild hair, eager to deepen the kiss. Desire thrummed in his veins; having Potter in his arms did not disappoint. Potter’s mouth opened under his and Draco groaned, his cock going from half-mast to ready-to-go in moments. Even in his fantasies, Potter’s kiss hadn’t felt this good, and they were just getting started….   
  
The hands on his chest gave him an almighty shove as Potter leapt to his feet and backed up to the door, "What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?" His breathing was shallow, his eyes wide.  
  
"Well, I would have thought that was obvious, Potter, or was that your first kiss?" It was too easy to fall back into their old dynamic.  
  
"I – no – that’s not the point! You kissed me!"  
  
"Ten out of ten for observation," Draco drawled, feeling the kick of his old self, the version of him that liked to make Potter feel stupid. The rejection stung.  
  
"But why? Kiss me, I mean?"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and stood up, taking two strides to meet Potter and press against him. "I want you," he whispered.   
  
"So that’s what all this apologising and playing nice has been about?" Potter’s voice was angry as he once again pushed Draco away. "You’re something else, you know that?" He scrabbled around for the door handle and yanked the door open. "Stay away from me!"  
  
Draco watched Potter leave with distress. That had not been the reaction he had hoped for, but then, he had not exactly planned on jumping Potter quite so suddenly – but Potter’s lips had been so inviting and, Merlin – he’d fucked that one right up.  
  


**: : : :**

  
Draco considered sending chocolates or flowers, but deep down he knew that wouldn’t work. Potter needed to see what he was missing and Draco wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing.   
  
Over the next couple of weeks he embarked on his seduction. Draco wouldn’t have said he was stalking per se, more  _observing_ , and when an opportunity presented itself, he would be there, leaning into Potter’s space, whispering in his ear. The first time was tentative – he was worried that Harry might hex him or punch him – the second time with more confidence, lips brushing Potter’s earlobe as he whispered how hot he thought Potter was, or how fantastic his arse looked.   
  
He could tell by Potter’s behaviour that he was anxiously waiting to see what Draco might do next, enjoying Potter watching him intently through narrowed eyes. It was a strange parody of their sixth year, but now his attention was welcomed.   
  
When he found Potter alone in the library, he sat beside him, sliding a hand on Potter’s thigh and let his breath tickle Potter’s earlobe as he said, "I’ve seen you watching me, Harry."  
  
He was no longer surprised when Harry didn’t pull away from him as he had initially expected. "I’m trying to work out what you’re up to," he hissed, glancing nervously around.   
  
"I’m trying to seduce you, Harry. I thought I’d made that quite clear the other day."  
  
"Why now?" Harry was still, waiting expectantly for Draco’s reply.   
  
"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"  
  
Harry slammed his book shut and grabbed his parchment, shoving it all messily into his bag. "I don’t have time for this, Malfoy," he said, standing, Draco’s hand falling from his thigh. "Go and play your games with someone else." With those parting words he left Draco hard – because he always was around Potter these days – a tight feeling in his chest telling him he needed a new plan.  
  


**: : : :**

  
"You want me to what?" Granger almost shrieked, drawing the attention of Slughorn and half of the students in the classroom. She lowered her voice and said, "No – no way."  
  
"Please. Granger, nothing is working. Harry won’t take me seriously. I don’t know what else to try." Draco didn’t want to resort to begging, but he was getting desperate now.   
  
Over the last few weeks he had given in and resorted to chocolates and flowers, jewellery and invites to expensive shows and restaurants. All had been turned down. He’d kept on seeking Potter out, touching him when he could. Potter never became abusive and never pulled away in anger.   
  
He’d let Draco lean into him, pay him a compliment, touch his hip, stroke his cheek with the back of his hand. He never hung around for long, but was it Draco’s imagination, or was Potter alone and out and about in places Draco just happened to be more than ever?  
  
Still, when he had decided the time was right to move it on again, to brush his lips over Potter’s, Potter had pulled away and said, "This wouldn’t work between us, Malfoy. Too much has happened."  
  
Rejected again. Yet, Potter hadn’t said it wouldn’t work because he wasn’t gay, or because he wasn’t attracted to Draco. "You’re wrong," he’d begun to argue back, but true to form, Potter had gone.  
  
"Maybe the Harry of this dimension really isn’t for you," Granger said quietly now. "A life without being under threat from an evil dark wizard made us all completely different people. Theo, this one, he’s never shown any interest in me, yet he was going to marry me –"  
  
"He’s had a crush on you since fourth year!" Draco gave up his friend’s secret without a second thought. "The whole ‘death eaters for parents’ thing kind of put a dampener on his chances, wouldn’t you say?"  
  
"Oh!" Granger bit her lip. "Well, that’s news."  
  
"So, will you do it?" Draco pressed.  
  
"All right, if he agrees, then yes, I’ll do it."  
  
"Thank you." Draco smiled his sincerest smile. "Do you want me to talk to Theo?"  
  
Granger shook her head. "No. I need to think about it, a lot."  
  


**: : : :**

  
Draco promised to do Theo’s homework for a week if he’d sleep in another room that night. Granger had caught his eye earlier at dinner and he’d known that meant Potter had said yes. All he had to do was wait, because he was certain Po – Harry would be seeking him out. He’d hang his life on it.  
  
Almost to the second Draco expected, the door burst open and Harry stormed in.  
  
"You utter arsehole, Malfoy! You manipulative, Slytherin  _wanker!_ "  
  
Draco tried to stifle the hurt that rose up unexpectedly inside him at Harry’s outburst, falling back on his old favourite hobby of Potter-baiting, He moved forward, closing the gap between them even farther. "I bet you’d like to see how much of a wanker I actually am, wouldn’t you, _Potter_?"  
  
"You wish," Harry snarled, his nose practically touching Draco’s now, his breath hot.  
  
"Yes, I do wish, Harry. I  _yearn_. The very fact that you’re here and you’re so angry is because you want me too. You’d like me to bend you over the back of that chair and fuck you senseless, wouldn’t you?" Draco licked his lips, the swelling in his trousers alerting him to the fact that if he was wrong about this, he’d probably die from sexual frustration. "I bet you like it rough, you –"  
  
Draco’s feet were knocked from under him and he landed with a thud on Theo’s bed, an angry Harry following him down and straddling him, grabbing Draco’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Green eyes searched his face. "You know I’ll like it," he said. "You know I’ll beg you to fuck me and then ride you hard. You know, don’t you,  _Dray_?"  
  
"You liked what you saw, didn’t you, Harry?" He hoped Harry had seen their other selves engaged in love not war. "Did you watch them fuck?" He coiled upwards and kissed Harry, tracing the seam of his lips with his tongue.  
  
"Yes," Harry said. "Against a tree in the Forbidden Forest."  
  
Draco closed his eyes, imagining the scene, finding that as erotic as it was, he preferred the sight of the very real and present Harry above him. "Did you touch yourself?"   
  
"What do you think?" He dropped his head onto Draco’s shoulder. "If I’d seen that sooner, I never would have turned you down so many times. I wanted to be sure you were serious, after the war… Potter and Malfoy, getting it on...?"  
  
Draco groaned and bucked his hips up into Harry. "You  _tease_. You’ve been leading me on for weeks."  
  
"I had to make you work for it, Malfoy, a little penance for past behaviour, test how much you meant what you said. Besides, it’s such fun watching you, watching  _me._ " Harry traced his thumb over Draco’s lips, and realising his hands were free again, Draco took advantage and flipped them over so that he was the one atop Harry, his hands pinning Harry’s to the bed.   
  
"You’ve asked for it now," Draco said, moving one hand slowly down Harry’s body and unbuttoning his trousers. Harry arched up for him and Draco pulled them and his boxers down his legs, leaving Harry in just his shirt and Gryffindor tie. Draco swallowed, flashes of what he’d seen tripping before his eyes. His cock hurt within the restrictive confines of his trousers.  
  
With a shaking hand, Draco reached down to touch Harry's erection; he pressed his palm flat against him and stroked slowly, wondrously. Harry groaned deep in his throat.   
  
Encouraged by the sound, Draco traced his fingertips over the length, loving the sensation of the smooth skin. Harry hissed his pleasure and Draco smirked. "Penance for past behaviour, Harry? I think perhaps I’m not the only one owing."   
  
Draco brought his second hand back into play, releasing Harry’s wrists, gripping his hips instead and running his thumb back and forth over the head of Harry’s prick, bringing his hand to his lips and licking off the pre-come. "Shall I do something about this?" he coaxed, lifting his head to meet Harry’s eyes, one hand still wrapped around Harry, stroking him teasingly.   
  
Harry leant up on his elbows and licked his lips. "Kiss me first. I want to taste you," he said.   
  
Draco settled himself comfortably astride Harry’s thighs, keeping his hand around his cock and stretched the length of Harry’s slightly shorter frame. He covered Harry’s mouth with his own, opening him up, kissing him with filthy intent, stabbing his tongue against Harry’s in an indication of what he hoped was to follow.  
  
"Hmmm," Draco said eventually, when Harry was a panting, hungry mess beneath him. "I wonder..." He scooted back and leant down to kiss the tip of Harry's twitching cock.  
  
"Nnnng," Harry grunted. "Merlin, Draco…" His legs fell open, a clear invitation to Draco that Harry wasn’t about to change his mind any time soon.   
  
Draco nuzzled the underside of Harry’s enticing red cock, swirled his tongue around the tip before licking a stripe along the length, and then another along the top, teasing his balls with his forefinger before curling it around the base. Continuing his attack, he placed tiny kisses along the length and finally closed his lips around the head. He suckled, emboldened by Harry's hips twisting under him, his breathing heavy, his chest heaving. One hand flew to Draco's shoulder, gripping him hard, while the other desperately fumbled with Draco’s trousers.   
  
Not wanting the distraction from his purpose, Draco grabbed his wand and Banished his own clothes, not doing the same for Harry’s shirt and tie, because, Merlin, a semi-clad Harry, in his school tie writhing beneath him was the hottest thing he had ever seen.  
  
He pushed Harry’s legs farther apart, grabbed a pillow and manoeuvred it under Harry’s arse. Draco wiggled himself into a position where he could lick from the tip of Harry’s cock all the way down to his inviting hole, blowing over it, loving the drawn out groaning of his name in response and the fingertips touching his shoulder.  
  
He lifted one of Harry’s legs over his shoulder, easing his cheeks apart for better access. Draco blew again and Harry bucked, his muscular thighs muscles trembling. Draco ran his tongue against Harry’s hole, then around the edge and Harry's spasm almost knocked him out. He had to place his forearm across Harry’s lower abdomen to keep him still. Turning his attention back to his goal, Draco pressed his tongue in, back and forth, dipping farther inside with each jab.  
  
Panting, Harry arched himself against Draco's lips, encouraging more, until Draco's tongue was thrusting into him in fast, stabbing motions. Harry emitted a low, keening noise, his hands curling into Draco’s hair. The sounds went straight to Draco’s cock and made him want to touch himself, to come simply from the taste and the sound of Harry coming undone.   
  
He pressed on, desperately wanting to bring Harry to the edge. Flicking his eyes up to watch Harry’s face as he writhed, his long lashes fanned against his cheek, his lip bitten as he attempted to hold himself in check, and then failing by emitting a groan. Harry was biting his lip again, as though giving in to Draco was the last thing he wanted to admit that he was doing, even now, with Draco’s tongue inside him, loosening him up for the inevitable. Draco loved this side of Harry and was overwhelmed by the need to replace his tongue with his cock before Harry lost it completely.  
  
He pushed his tongue deeper inside, until he could go no farther. He laved Harry open until he could not wait any more because Harry had really lost it now, clawing at Draco’s shoulders, his hair,  _begging_  Draco for more.  
  
It was what Draco had been longing to hear. He slid his tongue inside once more, deep, pulling out to suck the rim.   
  
Harry pleaded, "Malfoy,  _please!_ "  
  
Draco closed his hand over Harry’s prick again, stroking him from base to tip, before leaning up and giving one last swirl to the head. He took Harry’s full length and hummed. His reward was Harry pulsing into his throat, his whole body trembling into Draco’s.  
  
Desperate, he lifted his head, kissed Harry's hip, nosed his belly button and leant forward for a kiss. Harry returned his kiss. Draco sat back, and in one move settled himself between Harry’s thighs, keeping his eyes locked with Harry’s own. It was Harry who reached out a hand to the nearest wand and muttered the charm, nodding at Draco, curling his legs around his thighs.   
  
Draco curved his hands around the globes of Harry’s arse, settling him into position and eased inside in one smooth, slow thrust. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the heat encasing his cock, and to savour the knowledge that he was inside  _Harry Potter_. He nearly came just from the thought, and he was already close to the edge, immensely aroused by what had gone before.   
  
If he took this slowly, he might be able to last longer than a couple of strokes. He wanted to, this was something he wanted to be more than amazing, for Harry to get hard again from Draco’s cock inside him, for them to come together. He pulled out slowly, biting his lip, gliding back in, taking it easy.   
  
Harry groaned and propped himself up on his elbows, licking his lips. Draco arched his back, kissing Harry with everything he had, slamming back into him, all finesse forgotten as he chased completion.   
  
It didn’t take long. Draco’s orgasm was pulled from him, starting low in his belly and rushing through him, so sudden it was almost a surprise. "Harry!" he gasped, breaking the kiss as he came and burying his face in Harry’s neck. "Fuck."  
  
It was long minutes before his breathing was steady enough to move, and he flopped down beside Harry, face down. Draco wrapped one arm over Harry’s sweat-soaked shirt and set his head on Harry’s shoulder. "Tell me we’re doing that again," he rasped. There was no way he was letting this go as a one-time thing.  
  


**: : : :**

  
"We’re not them," Harry said later, propping his head up on an elbow and staring down at Draco. "We’re not in love."  
  
"No, not yet, but we could be." He searched Harry’s face for a reaction. "We just have to spend some time getting to know each other – we’re different people now."  
  
Harry nodded. "Getting to know each other sounds good." He curled a leg over Draco’s and traced a finger over his nipple. "And doing a lot more of this, I hope?"  
  
"Oh yes." Draco fed his hand into Harry’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. "A  _lot_  more."  
  


**: : : :**


End file.
